I Wished He Was You
by Kensley-Jackson
Summary: One-shot set in the future. Chuck and Blair haven't spoken in months, but that changes the night Nate proposes to her. Warning: Angsty. Rated T


I Wished He Was You

They were all at a party when it happened. It was being hosted by Anne Archibald.

They had already all graduated. It was the first big party of the summer, before anyone had a chance to jet off to the Hamptons.

For Chuck, most of the night was a blur. He wasn't one for parties these days. He'd walk around and mingle some at social events, but mostly he kept to the shadows—partly terrified of ever blocking the light from gracing Blair's face.

He would never hold her back from anything again.

She had seemed happier lately—not that they had spoken in months. No, truth be told they hadn't exchanged two words since she told him she was 'done.' He didn't want to believe that they were really over, but he knew in his heart that day in the elevator he had put the final nail in the coffin. They were done. She had moved on.

He was broken out of his daydream of a love that once was when the music abruptly cut off. He faintly heard the clinging of a champagne flute as everyone's attention was being drawn to the middle of the dance floor. There were collective sounds of shock and awe as the pieces fell into place in front of their eyes.

Chuck was the last to see what was holding their attention, but when he finally did, he couldn't look away.

There he was. His best friend on bended knee.

Looking up adoringly at the only person who ever loved Chuck Bass.

Presenting to her a diamond ring.

Blair's perfect profile was facing him. He could see everything that transpired in her demeanor.

The tears of joy. The uninhibited smile. The throwing-in of the towel.

She chose Nate.

That was the last thing he could think before running out of the banquet hall unnoticed by the party-goers who were too engrossed in the movie-perfect moment unraveling in front of them.

The only two people who realized he left were his siblings. They ran after him.

"Chuck!" Eric called out as him and Serena chased him down the hall.

"Don't!" Chuck yelled when they caught up to him. He rejected the idea of their comfort. Their concern. He wanted none of it.

He was Chuck Bass.

He slapped Serena's hand away. "Just don't" he begged, voice breaking.

When the elevator couldn't come fast enough, he pressed his body into the wall, hands over face, shielding his shame. His tears.

They poured out of him.

He knew they wouldn't judge him. They were family. But it embarrassed him nevertheless.

Men aren't supposed to cry. But this one does.

Chuck didn't push away the second time Serena reached for him. She wrapped her arms around him chest, pressing herself against his back in the closest thing to a hug that Chuck would ever allow.

His body shook when he made a plea.

"Get me out of here."

They shielded him from the public. Got him home safely to their currently abandoned suite without fear of being disturbed.

They sat in silence.

Eric thought to himself that the last time Chuck looked this devestated was when Bart died.

It was as if someone died.

Whether it was Chuck or Blair, he wasn't sure.

Neither of the van der Woodsens moved when he asked for a drink.

He had been sober for three months.

"Just a little. You can pour it for me" he said in a voice than none of them recognized. It was void of emotion. Of personality. Of Chuck.

Eric and Serena glanced at each other worried. Eric eventually got up and poured him a very small sip of scotch. Barely a shot.

He wasn't as strong as Serena.

He could never say no to his big brother.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Minutes trickled by. Maybe hours. Felt like days, but he knew it couldn't have been. He knew this, because when she came to see him, she was wearing the same yellow sundress she wore when Nate proposed.

"Please Serena, I have to talk to him!" she cried out as his siblings created a human wall preventing them from getting close to where he sat.

"Blair you need to leave" Eric told her.

He is growing up so fast.

"He doesn't want to see you B. Please don't do this to him right now" Serena pled, trying to not pick sides.

"S, you don't understand…" she began.

"No, you don't understand Blair!" Serena shouted in a burst of anger no one expected.

And just like that, his sister had chosen him.

Blair was probably shocked because she didn't respond.

"It's alright Serena" his own sad but strong voice came from the couch.

That was probably when Blair first spotted him, with his back to her.

"It's alright" he said again, though he wasn't sure that it was.

Blair pushed through them then, and walked over to his side.

When she didn't say anything, Chuck wondered if she really had something to say, or if she was at a loss for words.

He wondered if she was wearing a ring on left hand right then, but couldn't bring his eyes up to look.

Why bother? Of course she was.

She sat down, near him but not touching. Never touching.

She spotted the empty glass he clutched tightly in his hand. It rested on the thigh that was currently shaking up and down at a rapid pace.

The sound of ticking filled the room, but there was no clock was in sight.

"I thought you stopped drinking" she said in a pained voice.

He heard the judgement in her voice and knew instantly what he'd done:

He had let her down again.

"It's a special occasion" he said in a coarse voice "I was celebrating."

"I didn't say 'yes' Chuck" she told him "But I didn't say 'no' either."

He continued to stare ahead. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to know anything.

But he couldn't tell her to leave either.

So there he sat.

"I know he's hurt me in the past" she said quietly "But he's commited to making our relationship work. I loved him once and I think maybe I can fall in love with him again."

His lack of response was concerning.

She felt worthless.

She felt like a bitch.

She began to get defensive.

"I said I know he hurt me Chuck" she said louder "But not once did he ever hurt me as much as you did."

He reacted then. He closed his eyes.

His thigh shook faster. He squeezed the glass tighter.

"You're gonna hurt yourself" she whispered as she despertly reached out to take the glass from him.

Her soft hand moved over his coarse one.

It was human contact. It was too much.

"No stop!" Chuck begged, holding his arm away from her "I need it."

The glass was a symbol of him. A better best friend than his real one. A source of comfort he could easily accept.

It was so very easy to lose himself in its articificial comfort.

"I need it" he whispered again.

She was quiet for a little while. But then—

"Sometimes I still dream about the night you tried to jump off the roof of Victrola" she said. "Except in my dreams I don't save you. Everytime, you die."

She took a shaky breath.

"The only thing that changes is my reaction to your death. Sometimes I scream. Sometimes I open my mouth but no sound comes out. Sometimes I lose the feeling in my legs and crumble to the ground. Once I blacked out all together" she told him.

"I'm telling you this because last night I had that same dream again. Only this time when you jumped, I ran over to where you stood seconds before. I looked over the edge and saw your body hit the ground. And then without another moment to think it over, I jumped too."

She waited for a reaction that did not come.

"I couldn't stop thinking about that dream today. I was just on autopilot, trying to figure out what it meant and what I was feeling. Nate totally took me by surprise when he proposed. I didn't know what to do. Or think. Or say."

She reached for his hand again—this time slowly so not to startle him.

He still pulled away.

"I didn't know any of those things, Chuck, but I did know what I _wanted_" she said firmly.

She stopped because she needed to see his eyes. Needed to get lost in them. Needed to find her way home.

Needed to know that he wasn't going to mock another one of her confessions.

"Chuck" she cried out despertely "Please look at me."

"I can't" he said, eyes still closed.

She took a deep breath.

"_I wished he was you Chuck_" she whispered.

She started crying. She thought maybe he was too.

"No matter how bad you hurt me; no matter how much I tried to make the feelings go away…I still wished he was you."

She did something bold then. She reached for him a third time.

He didn't pull away now. He seemed to have given up all together.

Her hands on either side of his face, she pulled his stiff head to face her.

Chuck didn't feel the band of a ring against his cheek. It gave him hope.

Blair pressed their foreheads together.

"I never loved Nate the way I love you and I never will" she said firmly "I know that, but part of me still wants to say yes. Part of me still wants to believe I can move on. That I'm not dead inside without you."

Heavily breathing. Tears falling. Lips so close but not touching.

"But I am. That's what my dream confirmed. I'm dying and I've been dying since I cut you out of my life. I can't live this lie any longer. I need to be with someone who loves me Chuck, but I'm so afraid that you won't ever be…"

She was silenced then.

Just as he let the glass he was holding hit the carpet and roll under the sofa, Chuck leaned forward to close the gap between their mouths.

The kiss was slow but not hesistant. Chuck's kisses were never timid. Always sure. Always reassuring. Always passionate.

His kisses said the words he could not otherwise voice.

His lips were demanding against hers. Demanding for her to never doubt him again.

Refusing to let her pull back for air.

But eventually she did. Blair gasped shakily against his mouth.

"Why?" she asked sadly, as if she expected him to mock her confession and break her heart all over again.

"Because I'm dead without you too" he said "I love you, Blair."

Blair's eyes flew open. Chuck was finally staring back at her.

There was no hesitation or fear in his gaze like there was at the White Party or his father's funeral. No haze in his eyes from alcohol, no hash-induced glossiness.

For the first time in a long time, she saw nothing but Chuck.

And suddenly, she wasn't afraid of the unknown anymore. Maybe they'd make it, maybe they won't. All she knew for sure is that she'd never have those nightmares again.

Drowning now in his warm hazel eyes, Blair Waldorf was home.


End file.
